Sir Neal: Starting
by CheeseyCraziness
Summary: First test, the beloved story of Kel, is retold from Neal's point of view. Be ready to laugh. Rating is for future possibilities: nothing is set in stone.
1. Summary and Prologue

**This may, or may not, turn out to be a long and prosperous story. I don't know if I'll be able to keep up with it – the amount of work I have to do every day is simply appalling. Please do read, and review, but don't expect weekly updates. Expect monthly, or longer. **

Sir Neal: Starting

This should be a nice retelling of _First Test,_ from Neal's POV. We all love Neal, don't we? It's time to see Kel's story, from his side of the tale. It should prove fun.

I'm doing a disclaimer that applies to all chapters, okay? Okay.

Disclaimer: If you see something you recognize as somebody else's work, somebody else who is copyrighted and so on, it's their's and not mine. I'm not claiming ownership over characters, plot, and so on at all. You can't sue me. So there.

Well, I hope I actually find the time to do this! Cheeseycraziness

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Prologue:

_Dear Cousin,_

_You wish you could have seen it. Raoul the amazing, Raoul the giant-killing divine being, managed to let his Drum accidentally trample his toes. Not only does it hurt so much that he has to limp, but the healers won't heal it. They say it's not broken, just badly bruised, and they need a break so they can save their healing for other, more serious cases. In translation, they want to see their Knight Commander have a bit of humiliation for once. It'll build his character._

_If you hate it so much, why are you even bothering? Be a knight, already. You know you want to. It'll save you from such a dreadful situation, and perhaps the discipline will save us from having to bear with your insolent tongue all the time. _

_Besides, if you don't, perhaps I'll have a friend of mine recall what happened last Midwinter, to show to my uncle. He'd love to see that scene with Marrol that day. Did I mention my magical friend was there to see the whole thing? He showed me it afterwards. I've been saving this little secret for something like this for a while, and I have more where that came from. I'll promise not to tell, and I'll be saving you from the university and their bookish ways._

_Your kind cousin who does you favors you don't deserve,_

_Dom_

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_Dear Cousin,_

_Dom, are you spying on me? How on earth did you see that little misadventure?_

_At last I have taken your advice. I hope you rejoice. Your endless underlining of words and your innate skill at seeing blackmail opportunities convinced me to quit the university at last. No, I'm not telling my father behind your cruel, mischievous back. I grudgingly agree with you, to be honest. I need the discipline, as all my teachers tell me. Hard knight's work will do that, and possibly dull that "insolent tongue" of mine. Or perhaps not._

_So that's it. I've quit. I'm free as a bird. With the fall will come me in a page's uniform amongst the 10-year-old, frolicking, stick-swinging savages. I guess nothing's perfect._

_How is life on the muddy side of the road? I can't believe that Lord Raoul would so something so unspectacular as to allow that. I hope the humiliation of limping around for a week or so won't be too bad. Then again, with you on the job, it probably will. I will scold you mercilessly if – sorry, when – you taunt him about it. I'm writing that berating speech as you are reading this._

_Your cruelly mistreated cousin, _

_Neal_

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Well? Read and review, please...


	2. Chapter 1 Part 1

Well, you know what? This is an unfinished chapter, but I'm posting it anyway to keep you all satisfied until I find a way to settle my issues with the librarian…

I'll put up part 2 whenever I find a chance to type it accurately.

My apologies again,

Cheeseycraziness

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(Nearly all of the dialogue in this part is directly quoted from First Test.)

Neal, behind all of the senior pages and Lord Wyldon, or as he called him, the Stump, looked around at all of the new and old faces. In front of him were the older pages, and he knew most of them. There was Prince Roald, Cleon, Joren, Zahir, Faleron, and all of the others.

Then, he turned his eyes to the pages in front of Wyldon – the first-years, like him. Unlike him, however, they were short and about ten years of age. Neal sighed quietly. _Dom is definitely on my"payback" list,_ he thought for the twenty-third time.

First in the line was a brown-haired, freckled boy, who had a blank stare on his face. Neal kept back his smirk just in time. The dark-haired page with dark eyes endeavored to hide the nervous look on his face, and failed. He was worried to no end, and Neal felt sorry for him. A small blonde page seemed thoroughly uninterested in what was happening, glancing around with bored eyes and a displeased mouth. Another page had some of the straightest, brightest red hair he had seen in his life, and looked just a little nervous. The last in the line was a_ very_ tall, hazel-eyed, light brown-haired boy, whose face almost looked girlish. His eyes and his mouth were firm, and didn't give away any feelings at all. Neal was impressed at this feat.

After his inspection, Neal listened as boys got paired up with their sponsors. Faleron took the red-head boy called Merric in hand. Faleron was a good sponsor, and Neal thought Merric was very lucky to get Faleron.

Next was Quinden, the bored page, and he got stuck with Zahir. Neal grinned evilly at the torture the boy would go through. Zahir was a strict Bazhir, and not kind in the least.

The freckled boy was Esmond, who got Cleon as his sponsor. _Esmond was so frightened by Lord Wyldon. Cleon's joking around should do him some good, _thought Neal.

Dark-haired Seaver got paired with Roald. At first, Seaver looked like he was going to squeak with fear, but Neal knew Roald would be the best sponsor a page could get, especially for a worrisome page.

The tall, girly page was the only one who needed a sponsor. The Stump pointed at the boy, who was looking a bit nervous, but not much. "Your name and your fief?"

He gulped. "Keladry of Mindelan." Neal nearly smacked himself. This _was _a girl! He had thought she had decided not to come be a page after all – Keladry, or whatever she had said her name was, looked like both a boy and a girl, especially with her height. Lady Alanna was very short, and he thought a lady page would have looked more like her.

Zahir sniffed, and the attention of the group focused on him. "Girls have no business in the affairs of men," he said proudly, glaring at Keladry. She stared back in a calm defiance. Neal liked her style – she didn't look like she'd back down for over a century. "This one should go home."

"We aren't among the Bazhir tribes, Zahir ibn Alhaz. Moreover, I requested a sponsor, not an opinion." Wyldon replied icily, shaking his head. _The Stump is too fair for his own well-being, _Neal thought with a smile. _He's actually standing up for the girl a little bit, and he _despises_ her! _"Will no one offer? No beginner may go unsponsored!"

It was a quiet moment, and then Joren raised his hand. "May I, my lord?"

"This drama just gets better and better," Neal muttered. Cleon and Roald heard, elbowed him.

Wyldon stared at the blond page, and Neal suppressed a grin. "_You_, Joren of Stone Mountain?"

Joren bowed, his light hair falling across his face. "I would be pleased to teach the girl all she needs to know of life in the pages' wing."

Cleon snickered, and Neal glared at him. _Joren will have her out in a week! That's not fair! _Neal's mind worked furiously – he had seen the Queen's Riders and Lady Alanna fight, and surely even a girl he had never heard of deserved a _chance. _Could there be a good solution?

"I thought Joren hated-" somebody muttered.

"Shut up!" a page hissed. The girl studied her feet carefully, and the Stump frowned.

"I had hoped for another sponsor. You should employ your spare hours in the improvement of your classwork and your riding skills," Lord Wyldon replied.

"I believe I can perfect my studies and sponsor the girl," Joren said. "And since I am the only volunteer-"

_That's it!_ Neal thought.

"I suppose I'm being rash and peculiar, _again_," Neal said, his words dry as dust. "But if it means helping my friend Joren improve his studies, well, I'll just have to sacrifice myself. There's nothing I won't do to further the cause of book learning among my peers." Everybody turned to glare at him, including Joren and Wyldon.

Neal was finding it very hard not to grin at them.

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I hate having to leave you all like this. I _would_ pick First Test to be the one library book I lose in two years of a near-spotless record.


	3. Chapter 1 Part 2

Ha! I can't believe I found it! It was tucked away in some piece of luggage I found when I was preparing to leave for Colorado. I learned how to ski for the first time. It's now my new favorite sport – to play at least. Football still holds the "to watch" category, believe it or not. I know, a girl who likes football, it is insanity, but who cares?

Okay, I'm just being weird now in my elation. Sorry.

Just as a reminder – almost all the dialogue here is directly from the book, in this chapter, except for the Kel-isn't-there part. Half the story will be like this, little bits with Kel and Neal, but the other half will be what Neal thinks about learning to be a knight, his classwork, and so on. There'll also be some parts with Kel that aren't mentioned in the book. So don't worry that this'll just be a retelling of First Test – don't worry in the least.

Here it is – chapter one, part two. I'm really sorry you had to wait for it, and please review! – Cheeseycraziness

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Lord Wyldon, still glaring at Neal, rubbed his arm as he asked, "You volunteer, Nealan of Queenscove?"

Neal bowed clumsily, although the clumsiness was a fake and only meant to make the Stump mad. "That I do, your worship, sir," he said, taunting Wyldon to object.

Icily, Wyldon replied, "A sponsor should be a page in his second year, at least. And _you_ will mind your tongue."

_Since when have I minded it? _Neal briefly wondered.

"I know I only joined this little band in April, your lordship, but I have lived at court for almost all of my fifteen years. I know the palace and its ways. And unlike Joren," Neal said, enjoying the look the third-year page gave him, "I need not worry about my academics." Keladry stared at Neal, but Neal ignored it while he watched Wyldon try to keep his temper in control.

"You have been told to _mind your manners_, Page Nealan. I will have an apology for your insolence."

Neal bowed, not ready to let go of the little debate quite yet. "An apology for general insolence, your lordship, or some particular offense?"

"One week scrubbing pots. Be silent," Wyldon snapped. Apparently, he had forgotten that Keladry still needed a sponsor.

"How can I be silent, and yet apologize?" Neal asked, throwing his arms dramatically.

"Two weeks." Wyldon was furious. "The first duty for anyone in service to the crown is obedience." Through trying to control his rage, or trying to explain to Neal as though he were stupid, he said the words very slowly.

"And I am a terrible obeyer," Neal replied, looking a bit sullen. "All these inconvienient arguments spring to my mind, and I just _have_ to make them."

"Three," Wyldon said. He practically squeaked.

"Neal, shut it!" one of the pages whispered.

The girl, standing awkwardly in the middle of the argument, suddenly cleared her throat. "I can learn it on my own," Keladry said quietly, and all eyes were on her.

_Oh, I can't _wait_ to see what the Stump says,_ he thought. _That was a little dumb._

"_What_ did you say?" Wyldon asked, glancing at her with some irritation.

"I'll find my way on my own. Nobody has to show me. I'll probably learn better, poking around." Keladry said with a blank face.

Neal stared at her. _Obviously she's never been here before, or she'd know what a mess they made when this place was built._

"When I require your opinion-" Wyldon started.

"It's no trouble," Neal interrupted. "None at all, Demoiselle Keladry. My lord, I apologize for my wicked tongue and dreadful manners. I shall do my best not to encourage her to follow my example."

Wyldon looked like he was about to pop, before he waited a moment and changed his mind. "You are her sponsor then. Now. Enough time has been _wasted_ on foolishness. Supper."

He strode off with the pages following quietly. Neal and Keladry remained.

He looked over Keladry again. As he had already noticed, she had light brown hair, and hazel eyes. Her face hadn't changed at all in the past few minutes – it was still blank, and didn't reveal any emotion at all. Her eyes seemed very determined not show anything to him besides what was there already. Once again, she impressed Neal with her ability to not show anything. She was very, very tall in comparison to the other first-year pages, although Neal realized with a small inside laugh that at least _he_ was taller than she was. She inspected him back, and didn't show whether she approved of him or thought he was an idiot.

At last he said, "Believe me, you wouldn't have liked Joren as a sponsor. He'd drive you out in a week. With me at least you might last a while, even if I _am_ at the bottom of Lord Wyldon's list. Come on." He walked off, until he noticed he didn't hear her footsteps behind him.

He turned, saw she hadn't moved, and sighed. He waved for her to follow, but Keladry didn't move. Finally, he walked back to her. "What part of 'come on' was unclear, page?" He asked politely.

"Why do you care if I last a week or longer?" she asked. "Queenscove is a ducal house. Mindelan's just a barony, and a new one at that. Nobody _cares_ about Mindelan. We aren't related, and our fathers aren't friends. So who am I to you?"

Neal blinked at her sudden showing of anger. "Direct little thing, aren't you?"

The girl just crossed her arms patiently.

Neal sighed. _This girl's almost too much trouble. _"Look. You heard me say I've lived at court almost all my life, right?" She nodded.

"Well, think about that. I've lived at court and my father's the chief of the realm's healers. I've spent time with the queen and quite a few of the Queen's Riders and the King's Champion. I saw her majesty and some of her ladies fight in the Immortals War." He took a breath. "I _know_ women can be warriors. If that's the life you want, then you ought to have the same chance to get it as anyone else who's here."

He stopped with a rueful grin. "I keep forgetting – I'm not in a university debate. Sorry about the speech. Can go eat now?"

Kel nodded. Neal turned and went down the hallway, and this time she kept up with him.

As he walked, Neal thought. _Won't Dom like to hear about this? How his cousin already has three weeks of punishment, all for the one girl page in the palace. Next time I see him, I'll have to put something in his bed, or embarrass him. Maybe I can get him to trip and stumble on one of the ladies he likes._ Neal held back a grin at the thought, and then realized he had to tell Keladry something, if she were to stay out of trouble. Or, at least, stay out of more trouble than she was already in.

"Note that stairwell. Don't let anyone tell you it's a shortcut to the mess, or the classroom. It heads straight down and ends on the lower levels, underground," he told her.

"Yessir," she replied.

"Don't call me sir."

"Yessir."

Neal stopped. "Was that meant to be funny?"

"Nossir," she replied.

Neal threw up his hands and continued to walk.

Finally, they entered a room filled with noise. Keladry stopped for a moment, but Neal beckoned for her to follow her. He led her to the plates and napkins, and then through the food available to her.

Then, ready to eat, they stopped and looked for a place to sit.

Suddenly, all was quiet. Pages turned to stare, and whispers began to circulate. The Girl was here!

"Who cares? She won't last," was one of the clearly heard voices.

Neal glanced at Keladry, who bit her lip and ignored them, then found a nice seat. The boys all moved to other tables, leaving them alone.

Neal grinned. "This is nice. Usually it's impossible to get a bit of elbow room here," he remarked as he sat and put down his tray. Kel, on the opposite side of the table, quietly sat too.

Somebody rapped on a table, and Lord Wyldon, in the front of the room, suddenly commanded all attention. All the pages got to their feet, and Wyldon raised his hands in prayer. "To Mithros, god of warriors and of truth, and to the Great Mother Goddess, we give thanks for their bounty."

"We give thanks and praise," said all of his audience.

"We ask the guidance of Mithros in these uncertain times, when change threatens all that is time-honored and true. May the god's light show us a path back to the virtues of our fathers and an end to uncertain times. We ask this of Mithros, god of the sun."

"So mote it be," all the pages replied. Wyldon dropped hands, and the boys sat to eagerly begin to eat.

Keladry frowned as she sat. Neal told her, "Don't let his prayers bother you. My father says he's done nothing but whine about changes in Tortall since the king and queen were married. Eat. It's getting cold."

They ate a moment, before Keladry dropped her fork and said, "Nealan?"

"It's Neal. My least favorite aunt calls me _Nealan_," he said.

"How did his lordship get those scars? And why is his arm in a sling?"

_What?_ He though, bewildered. "Didn't you know?" Keladry didn't reply.

Neal shook his head. "In the war, a party of centaurs and hurroks-"

"Hur-what?"

"Hurroks. Winged horses, claws, fangs, very nasty. They attacked the royal nursery. The Stump-"

"The what?"

Neal sighed, his eyes shining wickedly. "I call him the Stump," he said, "because he's so stiff. Anyway, Lord Wyldon fought off the hurrocks and centaurs, all by himself. He saved Prince Liam, Prince Jasson, and Princess Lianne. In the fight, the hurroks raked him. My father managed to save the arm, but Wyldon's going to have pain from it all his life."

"He's a hero, then," Keladry said thoughtfully, and in awe. Neal shrugged.

"Oh, he's as brave as brave can be," Neal reassured her. "That doesn't mean he isn't a Stump." He ate a bit more, thinking, and finally decided to tell her what he was thinking. "You aren't what was expected."

"How so?" Keladry asked, cutting her meat.

"Oh, well, you're big for a girl. I have a ten-year-old sister who's a hand-width shorter. And you seem rather quiet. I guess I though the girl who would follow in Lady Alanna's footsteps would be more like her."

Keladry shrugged. "Will I get to meet the Lioness?" she asked curiously. Her face showed that she treated the comment like a piece of mild conversation, but he would bet Keladry didn't know her eyes shone with eagerness.

He looked down. "She isn't often at court. Either she's in the field, dealing with lawbreakers or immortals, or she's home with her family." A bell chimed, and the pages carried their trays to a window in the back of the room.

"Come on," he told her. "Let's get rid of this stuff, and I'll start showing you around."

When they exited the room, Salma, a head of the palace staff, drew Keladry aside to chat. Curious, Neal made use of his lip-reading talent to hear what was said. Salma explained how Keladry would use her keys, and how she would keep boys out of her room. Neal was mad. _They hadn't even seen her, and they went and ruined her room anyway. That's low, even for them._

Keladry came back. "If they can't wreck your room, they'll find other things to do," he murmured. The girl raised her eyebrows in question, and he explained how he read lips.

Keladry tucked the keys into her belt-purse. "I'll deal with the other things as they come. Now, where to?"

_You have to admire her determination,_ Neal thought once again. "I bet you'd enjoy the portrait gallery. If you're showing visitors around, it's one of the places they like to go."

Neal led her through all sorts of salons, libraries, hallways and chambers, until they finally reached their destination.

"Keladry-"

"Kel," she interrupted.

"Kel, this is the portrait gallery," he said grandly. Kel looked awed as she looked around at the sheer size of the gallery. Neal showed her everything, and told her something about every person, and her dumbstruck face at how much he knew made him laugh a couple times. King Jonathan's portrait and Queen Thayet's portrait amazed her the most.

"She's splendid," Kel whispered.

"She is," he said dryly, "But don't say that around the Stump. He thinks she's ruined the country, with her K'miri notion that women can fight and her opening schools so everyone can learn their letters. Anything new gives my lord of Cavall a nosebleed."

"Still determined to go to war with the training master, Nealan?" said a soft, whispering voice behind them. Neal turned to see Tkaa, a basilisk who was one of the teachers for the pages.

Kel turned too, and her jaw dropped as she stared at the creature. "You're staring, Mindelan," Neal reminded her, and she closed her mouth.

"As am I," Tkaa replied with a hint of laughter. "Will you introduce us?"

"Tkaa, this is Keladry of Mindelan," he said. "Kel, Tkaa is one of our instructors in the ways of immortals."

Kel looked confused, and Tkaa explained, "We basilisks are travelers and gossips. I earn my keep here by educating those who desire a more precise knowledge of those immortals who have chosen to settle in the human realms."

"Yes, sir," Kel replied, still in awe. Then she nearly tripped over herself, trying to curtsy and bow at the same time. Neal caught her before she could topple over, and then the red-faced Kel bowed properly.

"I am pleased to meet you, Keladry of Mindelan," he said, as though she had never been clumsy at all. "I shall see you both, the day after tomorrow." He nodded to the two of them, and walked out of the gallery.

Neal sighed. It was getting to be somewhat late. "We'd better get back to our rooms. Tomorrow's a busy day." He led her back to her rooms, correctly reading the look on her face that said she couldn't quite remember the way.

"We'll meet in the mess hall, in the morning," he told her, and left for his own room.

His Royal Highness, Prince Roald, was waiting for him outside his door. "It's about time you got here," he muttered, looking a bit irritated. _At what?_ Neal wondered.

"Hello, Roald," he said cheerily. The prince didn't move. "What's bothering you?" Neal asked, worried.

Roald frowned. "Do you know they'll hate _you_ now, too? Maybe you should get some sort of special lock or something, like Keladry. They might wreck _your_ rooms. It's one thing to deliberately irritate Wyldon. The others didn't like you enough already, and now they're going to _ruin _you. I'm not going to, of course, but I'm not sure Cleon's too happy with you. And he's your friend…" he trailed off, looking at the floor.

Neal sighed. "Roald, I had to help her. Joren wouldn't give her a chance at all. She deserves one."

There was a short silence. "I know you had to. I hate being the prince sometimes." he muttered. "You want to help your subjects, and hinder other ones, and you can't. You want to fight with somebody, or fall in love with another, and you can't. I'm stuck being unable to do any of that."

Neal saw the problem. Roald had wanted to sponsor the girl, but he couldn't for fear of what the kingdom might say. And he also hadn't wanted Neal to be giving up any chance of being accepted by the others.

"Roald, I'm sorry. I'd hate it in your position, too. Thanks for being on my side, Roald. It helps knowing at least one person hasn't turned away from me. I appreciate it."

Roald looked up. He seemed to think a moment, and then sighed. "Good night, Neal."

"Good night, Roald," Neal replied, unhappy to see his friend so glum. He entered his rooms, and sat on his bed. Cleon didn't quite like him, the others hated him, Roald was unhappy… The only good friend he seemed to have now was Kel, which, of course, only made things worse.

Had he done the right thing?

_Dear Cousin, _

_So, how is it there with all the "10-year-old, frolicking, stick-swinging savages?" I snorted and nearly sprayed water all over your letter when I read that. _Nearly.

_Lord Raoul's toe's gotten all fixed up, and by the Lioness. She was furious at the healers, and gave 'em a good scolding before she left for who-knows-where to fight who-knows-what. Ah, well. It was fun while it lasted._

_Besides that, there's not much to say from here. And don't worry; I've kept my promise to not tell your father. If I do anything, I keep my word. Or find loop-holes. I'm kidding, Meathead._

_I'm certain I'll enjoy hearing from you again!_

_Your bored, loop-hole loving cousin,_

_Dom_

_Dear Cousin,_

_How is it here? Depressing. Terrible. Atrocious. How could I ever allow you to pull me into such a treacherous plot?_

_Oh yeah. Blackmail. Did I mention I hate that?_

_Well, unlike you, I'm a justice loving person, not a loop-hole loving one. I decided to give the girl page, Keladry, a chance – unlike certain others here. What do I get? My friends have all either turned against me completely, aren't friends with me, or are unhappy with me. My enemies, on the other hand, are coming to kill me. I'm going to go rewrite my will so I can tell the world that you started this insanity. Won't that be nice? _

_My only true friend now is – you guessed it – Kel, the girl, herself. I get to beat myself up two days from now with staffs, I have to learn things like mathematics and Tortallan history, _again,_ and any page who finds a chance to embarrass me will embarrass me. See what terrors thou hast wrought? _

_I can't _wait_ till I see you again Dom. Perhaps I may thank you properly for all this._

_Your cousin whose name is _not_ Meathead, thank you very much,_

_Neal_


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